Thematic Drabble collection on Francoeur
by SailorYue
Summary: These are a collection of drabble/shortfics all about our loveable flea Francoeur. Each chapter revolves around a certain subject of my choosing and what not. Each chapter will also have a different genre. One can be cute, one can be hurt/comfort, one could be comedy. things like that. A Monster in Paris is not my property.
1. Strength

It was a beautiful Friday afternoon. The cabaret was closed, so Francoeur was helping Raoul with some of his deliveries. Emile was premiering a new Melies film so he couldn't help. Raoul needed the help for one delivery for certain. It was to deliver an order of peat to the Professor. The only way the Professor would even allow Raoul deliver it was if someone else brought he peat inside. Raoul only consented to this because he needed all the clients he could get. He needed money to repair Catharine. After the flood receded he was able to retrieve her, and now she had a massive crack in the oil tank.

When they arrived at the Paris Gardens greenhouse, Francoeur retrieved the three bags of peat from the back. He held one on each shoulder easily, the third he held in his second pair of hands. They were far enough that no one would see them otherwise. Francoeur went over to the door and knocked. Charles opened the door and greeted him with a cheerful coo; Francoeur returned an equally happy chirp. He put the three bags by the door where Charles indicated.

Francoeur returned his arms into his sleeves, which was easy since he left his white coat in the truck, since he didn't want to dirty it. Lucille tended to get cross with him if it got dirty, as it was difficult to clean.

Francoeur headed over to where the Professor was standing. There was a lot of commotion going on at the greenhouse, he noticed. There was a man holding a large piece of glass steady on some rope, that started lifting the glass up to where there was a hole in the roof. Francoeur held his hat as he looked upward to see there were people standing on he roof as well.

"Hello Francoeur." the Professor greeted him. "mind the broken glass." he indicated bits of glass littering the floor near the lab area. Francoeur nodded. The men workin on the hole in the ceiling were shouting orders at each other. They started hoisting the glass upward. Francoeur, Charles and the Professor watched intently as they attempted to place the pane of glass.

"Shit!" one of the men shouted. The pane of glass slipped and fell. Without thinking Francoeur sprang into action and caught the glass before it hit the ground. He carefully leaned it against the counter. He hid his other arms again before the strangers in the room realized what they saw.

"Thanks sir, that would have been expensive to replace." one said as he came over to the professor. "excuse me, Proffesor, can I talk to you?"

"Yes, what's up?"

"There's a slight problem with the metal framing. Whatever broke thru the glass also bent the support framing. We can't straighten it with the tools we have. We probably can't get the proper tools till Monday. I'm sorry."

"It's alright gentlemen. Go on and take off for the evening, I have a guest anyways."

The workers packed up their tools and swept up the remainder of the glass. The Professor saw to the men's departure, and alwhen be came back he saw Francoeur staring up at the hole.

Francoeur was thinking back to that night. The night he came into the light. He remembered being confused, Emile screaming in fright, thinking there was danger still. He remembered the need to flee and how he jumped, farther than he ever did. He vaguely remembered something striking his back. It hadnt hurt.

"I'm sorry" he said as the Proffesor approached him.

"I don't blame you for that Francoeur. If anything-"

He was cut off by Francoeur suddenly jumping upwards. He landed deftly on the roof and crouched near the warped metal. Professor and Charles watched as he inspected the framing. Francoeur put his gloves in a pocket and pushed up his sleeves so he would have freedom of all his hands.

He gripped the warped metal and tested to see if it was moveable. He easily straightened the one side. The other bit of metal was more difficult only because it was curled more. Francoeur had to do it in parts to straighten it.

All while he was doing it, the professor and Charles were watching. The professor stroked his chin in thought.

"Charles, write this down with the other info on Monsieur Francoeur. It is quite intriguing how strong he is."

Charles cheeped with a nod. He scratched his back as he pulled out a notebook from a drawer at the lab table, quickly scribbled something in it, then put it back.

In the time that this transpired, Francoeur had returned inside. He had to come thru the front door, as the opening in the roof was no longer wide enough for him to fit. The professor and Charles watched as Francoeur went over to the pane of glass and picked it it up with ease. He carried it back outside.

It wasn't long before Francoeur came back in , finished with fixing the roof that he felt responsible for damaging.

"Well thank you Francoeur" the Proffesor said, holding out a hand to shake Francoeur's. Francoeur shrugged and chirped. It was the least he could do since the professor gave him the potion that allowed him to be full sized and participate in the human world, and let him enjoy his passion in music.

"It's getting late, Lucille is probably starting to wonder where I've gone. Sorry again for breaking the roof."

The professor waved his apology off. "Think nothing of it. It's fixed now, and I can start controlling the climate for the plants now."

Francoeur smiled as he fixed his sleeves and put his gloves back on. Raoul had left hours ago so Francoeur would have to walk home, or in his case leap roof to roof making sure no one sees him. He chirped a goodnight to the professor and Charles. They said goodnight back, Charles tipping his hat as well. They watched as francoeur leapt off. It definatly was an interesting day for All of them.


	2. Violin

It started as a normal evening. The cabaret was getting set up for that night's performances. The band was getting set up. The percussionist and tubaist were off getting coffee and snacks for between shows. The violinist was tuning his instrument; As was Francoeur. Francoeur looked over at his fellow musician when something acurred to him. The other musician played his instrument the same was Francoeur played his guitar but it didn't sound like a guitar. He didnt really I ow what the musicians instrument was called, and he's performed along side him for a few weeks.

"excuse me, what kind of guitar is that, you have an interesting was of playing it."

The musician looked up from his instrument. "It is not a guitar, Monseuir Francoeur, it is a violin."

Francoeur tilted his head. He caught himself before he gave a quizzical chirrup. This man did not know his secret, that he was not human, but rather a giant flea. He cleared his throat and asked, "a violin?"

The man nodded. "Yes. Do they not have violins in your home land?"

Francoeur's smile was hidden by his thick scarf. They certainly did not. "No. There are no violins where I come from."

The musician picked up his violin. "A violin can be played a y number of ways. It is a classical Instrument at heart, but that doesn't limit how it can be played. By. Ormal means, a violinist would use a bow to rub against the strings and elicit the music, like so."

He places the violin under his chin and let loose a few notes. They sounded very sad and beautiful to Francoeur. Perhaps he would learn how to play a violin.

The violinist stopped his playing, and continued teaching Francoeur about the instrument. "A violin can also be strummed. There are times, especially during yours and Miss Lucille's performance, where it requires more peppy fast kind of music, so I can pluck at it while under my chin, or just like your guitar."

Francoeur wanted to try the instrument out, the first way the man played it. "May I try it out?" he asked.

"Sure my good man." he handed Francoeur the violin. Francoeur tried setting it up under his cheek or chin, but he scarf was somewhat in the way. When he got it fitted properly, he took the now and placed it in position. Mimicking how he saw the violinist move his fingers, he managed to figure it out after a few moments. The short song he played had no lyrics, but it was somewhat sad, and mimicked how his heart felt as he lived his life in secret. When he finished, he pulled the violin from under his chin. Unfortunately the instrument had snagged on his scarf, and it was pulled from his face, revealing his pincers for the other man to see.

Francoeur remained frozen in his seat, eyes wide, tensely waiting for the inevitable scream of fear from the violinist. The musician just sat there stunned, staring at Francoeur. It seemed like the silence stretched for hours, but in actuality it was only half a minute.

The violin player narrowed his eyes in Francoeur's direction. "Aha. You are that giant flea that 'attacked' Miss Lucille during the funicular inauguration, are you not?"

It was all Francoeur could do but nod. The man chuckled, much to Francoeur's surprised. "You weren't that convincing of a monster up close. I saw how carefully you held Miss Lucille. And I don't know of many singing dancing scary monsters."

Francoeur seemed to have relaxed at the man's canter, grateful that he did t run away and give away his secret identity. He fixed his scarf so it hid the lower part of his face; he paused a moment as it accured to him, will the musician keep his secret?

As if reading his mind, the other man waved his hand in Francoeur's direction. "Do not worry monsieur, I will not tell anyone your secret." .

Francoeur showed a happy grin and a grateful chirp before finishing fixing his scarf. And just in time too, as at that very moment the other 2 band members returned from their coffee break, carrying a cup for the violinist.

"What's going on here gentlemen?" the percussionist asked.

"Oh not much. Just small talk, teaching Monsiuer Francoeur about violins as they do not have them in his country." he gave a wink in Francoeur's direction.

And just like that, things seemed back to normal, although Francoeur was grateful to have another friend who knew his secret.


	3. Rain

As a rule, fleas avoided water. Too much and they would drown. It made getting Francoeur clean a tricky thing to do, but eventually they figured Francoeur can just sponge himself clean should he get dirty.

But rain on the other hand, didn't bother Francoeur as much as a bath did or the Seine had. It didn't send his instincts screaming. Sure he didn't feel entirely COMFORTABLE while IN it, but while safe and dry inside, he loved it.

It was raining the night that Lucille invited him into her home.

What he loved most about rain was that it never really had the same pattern as it fell. If there wasn't a show, and it was raining, Francoeur would go up to the attic, open the window a crack and just LISTEN. Some times the pitter-patting of the rain on the roof and pipes would make a rhythm just perfect for a song.

Not all were sad, as his self reflective piece was, that fateful night. Sometimes, like during a heavy summer downpour, like the one today, he could write fast tempo-ed happy pieces just about anything. He was writing about how beautiful summer was. It probably would be his favorite season.

Lucille was in her dressing room designing a new advertisement poster for the summer season. She paused when she heard Francoeur's low singing coming from upstairs. She smiled up at the ceiling. He had such a wonderful talent. She went back to work on the poster, taking inspiration from Francoeur's inspiration. Perhaps this will be the best poster for the Rare Bird yet.

-

Monster in Paris is not mine


	4. Sick

It was an ordinary spring evening. Francoeur and Lucille were preparing for the evening's performances. Francoeur noticed that Lucille seemed rather tired. She had a long day. A strange man with a rather large pointy nose had came by demanding his job back, or the very least a final paycheck. Lucille had argued with him stating that he no longer had the job, due to numerous complaints of rudeness, as well as him eavesdropping on Lucille when she was in her dressing room. As for his final paycheck, it was used to pay for damages the police had done in searching for the monster at the cabaret, thanks to his "false report". The argument would have gone on all day had Albert not grown very intimidated by Francoeur's large form. Francoeur did not know much about the strange man, and from the description Lucille had given after he departed, should feel lucky to never have heard the man attempt at singing.

Lucille was drinking a cup of warm tea with honey, something she did occasionally before performances. But to Francoeur she seemed exceptionally tired.

"Are you sure you are alright, Lucille?"

She smiled at him, "yes, just a small headache. I'll be fine."

Francoeur noticed that she also seemed to be a strange combination of colors. Her cheeks were a lovely rosey pink color, while the rest of her face was a strange pale white color. Before he could comment tho, Madam Carlotta was announcing their performance.

"And now, The Rare Bird is proud to present, Mademoiselle Lucille and Monsieur Francoeur!"

They started with playing La Seine. Francoeur watched Lucille for the right cues, but noticed something was very wrong with how Lucille was moving.

When the part of the song came where Lucille spun around, she lost Her balance and collapse. Things happened in slow motion for Francoeur. He dropped his guitar and caught Lucille gently in his arms before she hit the ground. A look of horror as the sweet angel of montmartre, lay unmoving in his arms.

The next hour seemed a blur. Carlotta promised refunds to the customers since there would be no more performances for the evening. Some frequent patrons offered words of condolences; Raoul ran to fetch a doctor. Francoeur carried Lucille to her bedroom and gently laid her in the bed. She felt much warmer than she usually does. Out of all of the people around, Francoeur felt the most scared, as he did not know what was wrong with his dearest friend. And when he grew worried, his more flea-like tendencies came out.

When Raoul arrived with the doctor Carlotta laid her hand on Francoeur's back. "We should give the man some space to work." She ushered Francoeur out of Lucille's bedroom. "Also, please watch you don't rip through your vest dear, silk isn't the easiest fabric to mend."

Distracted Francoeur nodded, and headed towards his room, passing Raoul and Emile who also were concerned about Lucille's well being. Emile watched as the large flea shut his door with a bit of force. He looked up at Raoul to see that his skinny friend was completely out of it, not paying attention to anything but Lucille's door. He figured Francoeur needed some company so headed down the hall.

He rapped lightly on the door, clearing his throat. "Ah, may I come in Francoeur?" Francoeur gave a chirp in affirmation. Emile entered and then shut the door gently behind him. He saw that Francoeur had taken off his vest and hat, both laid on the bed beside him; and was toying with his mask. He wasn't sure where to begin in comforting his large friend. "Are you ok Francoeur?"

Francoeur looked up, eyes a dark hue red, "I... I don't know. I feel scared. Confused. More worried than I ever have felt since the Eiffel tower." Emile ran his fingers thru his hair. That was a lot of worry then. "I'm sure everything is fine, the doctor is seeing her, and in a few minutes we will get answers." Emile saw that his words weren't really reaching Francoeur. He looked around the room and saw many things the flea had collected in his short life, including an oddly styled wig. He remembered something about Lucille saying that it was Francoeur's favorite. He got an idea.

"How about we go wait in the hall, that way as soon as the doctor finishes checking on Lucille we can hear the news straight away?" he held out the pointy wig to Francoeur. Francoeur smiled sadly and walked over toward his dressing table to put the wig on . He then made sure everything else was fine. Emile noticed there were some tears on his shirt, but right now they weren't too noticeable. Together they headed back towards Lucille's room. They noticed the door was open a crack now. The doctor talking with Carlotta.

Raoul finally noticed that Emile and Francoeur were standing next to him, doing a double take at the sight of Francoeur's wig. He reported what he heard from the doctor. "It's a cold, as well as general exhaustion. He says that the main thing Lucille needs is plenty of rest and fluids and stuff."

Francoeur noticed that both Emile and Raoul seemed relieved with this news, so he nodded as if he understood what was being said.

The next morning Lucille stirred, noting she had somehow ended up in her bed, with little to no memories of the previous night. Sensing she was awake, Francoeur stirred from where he had fallen asleep, head resting at the edge of her bed. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, "Lucille, you're awake!"

"Fran-" Lucille broke off in a fit of coughing. Her throat felt rather dry. Francoeur helped her sit up, and offered her a glass of cool water. After she drained half the glass, Francoeur eased her gently back on the pillows, fluffing them with his free hands.

"What happened last night?" Lucille kept her voice at a whisper. She felt she slept a while, and yet still felt very tired.

Francoeur emitted a soft whine as he explained how she had collapse in the middle of the show, due to exhaustion. Lucille realized how worried Francoeur must have been. She gently cupped her hand to his cheek. "Thank you for staying by me last night. It means so much to have someone like you to care." Francoeur couldn't help but give her a toothy smile. He noticed how Lucille seemed to be drifting off to sleep so he fixed her blanket for her, making sure she stayed warm; grateful that his precious friend was alright.


	5. Piano

Francoeur was playing the piano in the dressing room. It was just some random piece that came to him. Sometimes inspiration came to him out of nowhere. He's filled several song books because of this; luckily reading and writing sheet music was easy to figure out. He paused mid play when he realized Lucille was watching him.

"You know, I'm jealous of your talent with the piano."

Francoeur chirped in confusion. He did not know the meaning of that word Lucille used. Lucille thought the best way to explain the word to him.

"It means I wish I had your abilities. I took lessons when I was a child, but I was never really any good."

Lucille can play the piano? This made Francoeur happy. He wanted to hear her play the large instrument. He stood up and gestured for Lucille to take a seat. Lucille held her hands up and vehemently shook her head.

"Oh no, really you don't want to hear me play. It's been 7 years since I last played."

Francoeur gave a pitiful hopeful chirp and gave Lucille a look she just could not resist. She sighed in defeat.

"Alirhgt I'll play something. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Francoeur helped set the bench at a comfortable distance for her. Lucille thought a minute at what she remembered from her lessns when she was 7 years old. She started playing the opening notes to Fur Elise. Though she flubbed several times during the song, Francoeur thought it sounded very beautiful. he didn't I ow how the song should sound, he never heard it before. He only guessed at what were mistakes as Lucille frowned whenever they happened.

Lucille finished her song and looked over at her audience member. "See, I'm very out of practice." She started when she realized that Francoeur was clapping his hands. He helped her up. "But I made so many mistakes." how could he enjoy such a thing?"

"They did not sound like mistakes to me. To me you were making he song your own. It sounded beautiful Lucille, do not sell yourself short!"

Lucille blushed at the compliments and wondered how much piano lessons were going these days. Perhaps it wouldnt be a bad idea to learn to play it properly.

another randomness that just had to be written. This one came to me cuz.. I mean why would Lucille have a piano in her room if she can't play it. I figure she was forced to take lessons like any number of us from musical families. (maybe a skill that Carlotta thought would reel in the gentlemen callers) anyways, hope its enjoyable


	6. Accident

It was a beautiful spring morning. The perfect day for spring cleaning all around the cabaret. Francoeur was dusting in the dressing room. Humming La Seine to himself while polishing the piano, he backed into the small table, knocking it over. Francoeur managed to catch the table from falling over, but not before the small crystalline vase on it fell off it, shattering.

Francoeur gasped in horror recognizing the vase, now in peices. It was one that was very important to Lucille. There was a knock on the door, "Everything alright in here Monsieur Francoeur?" It was Lucille's Aunt Carlotta. Francoeur opened the door a crack and gave the elder woman a smile.

"Yes, everything's fine. Just bumped into a table while cleaning the piano."

Carlotta seemed to accept his answer. "Alrigt dear, just be careful." She headed down the hall towards the kitchen.

Francoeur sighed in relief and shut the door. He looked down at the remains of the vase that he broke, wondering what he should do. He had a sudden idea. He wrapped the broken glass in a clean dust rag, he grabbed his mask and hat off the dressing doll and snuck out the back entrance of the cabaret.

Francoeur rushed towards his friend Emile's appartment, the fastest way he knew; jumping from the roofs. Of course as always he was careful so no one would see him. In his arms a parcel of broken glass. He knocked on the door as soon as he arrived. The one person he was looking for opened the door and greeted.

"Oh, hey there big guy. What's up?" Raoul stepped aside, allowing Francoeur to enter. Since Raoul 's 'home' was currently unlivable with the damages caused by sinking to the bottom of La Seine, he was staying at Emile's appartment. Something the projectionist was not entirely too happy with. Of course he wasn't going to turn his best friend away, but Raoul was seriously getting in the way of his wooing of Maude.

"Raoul, there was an accident." Francoeur said turning to Raoul. Raoul noticing how upset Francoeur was grew concerned. "Oh my gosh, what happened? Is Lucille alright?"

Francoeur shook his head. "Nothing like that." He placed his parcel on the coffee table and unwrapped it. "I broke this." Raoul knelt by the table and inspected the broken glass. "I recognize this... This is, or should I say WAS, Lucille's mother's favorite crystal vase."

Francoeur sighed in misery. That must mean it is VERY IMPORTANT. There was an opening of a door down the hall. Emile shouted a quick greeting to Francoeur before going back into his bedroom from the bathroom. Raoul stroked at his beard while peering closely at one of the pieces. He shook his head and placed it back on the pile.

"I'm sorry Francoeur, this kind of crystal isn't that easily repairable. The glue doesn't stick well to it. I should know, I tried to fix a crystal horse of my grandmothers that I broke. It wouldn't fix so I hid it. I got in sooo much trouble." noticing Francoeur's growing fear he quickly waved his hands. "But that's only because I tried to hide it! I'm sure Lucille will understand if you come forward and explain right away what happened. Tell her the truth."

Francoeur looked at the pile of broken glass and sighed. Raoul had a point. It probably would be better to tell Lucille what happened. She would notice her favorite vase was missing eventually. He wrapped the broken glass back up and bid Raoul adieu. Raoul leaned against the door jamb as he watched as Francoeur took to the rooftops.

"You definitely seem to have the whole "fatherly advice" thing pretty good." A voice next to Raoul said. Raoul sighed, "Yeah." He started as he realized what was just said. "Dammit Emile don't do that!" Emile had a very smug look on his face. One advantage of being small, he always managed to sneak up on Raoul, especially when he was distracted. "Don't you have a date to go to?" Raoul asked with a scowl. Emile chuckled and headed down the stairs.

When Francoeur arrived back at the cabaret, he was greeted by Lucille's cheerful voice. "There you are Francoeur, you left in such a hurry this afternoon, I was getting worried."

Francoeur took a deep breath to steel himself. "Lucille, I ha e something to tell you." The singer raised her eyebrow at her tall friend.

They entered their shared dressing room. Francoeur knelt and payed his parcel on the floor. Silently he opened it revealing the shattered remains of the vase. He sat quietly on the sofa, afraid to see Lucille's face as he heard her gasp.

The minutes passed in silence. Francoeur sensed Lucille had approached him. Gently she cupped his cheek to draw his attention upward. She didn't seem angry.

"What happened? " She asked softly. Francoeur explained how he wasn't watching what he was doing and knocked over the table breaking her vase.

"I'm sorry Lucille. I know it was important to you."

Lucille looked at the pile of broken glass that used to be her mother's favorite vase. She looked back at her glum friend. He was really beating himself up over it. She forced him to make eye contact with her.

"Yes, it was important to me. But I have realized that there are more important things in my life now. People who are worth more than an old thing that belonged to my mother."

Once again Francoeur was stunned at Lucille's compassion. She gave him a reassuring smile, and he smiled back. She helped him to his feet. "Come on, there's only a couple hours before tonight's performance, and something tells me you missed lunch." Francoeur chirped a confirmation. Things were alright again, that made him happy.

Dunno entirely where this one came from... One scene was fun to write for sure, despite the problems it gave me. When the idea for it came to me i honestly could not stop laughing... Try to guess what scene :P

This one didn't flow as smoothly as my other zingers so hope it's not crappy. It's also probably one of the longest of my themes.

Idea for the vase comes from how Lucille reacts to it being in danger in the movie. She immediately takes it out of Maynott's hands as if he would break it, and gets worried when it falls off the piano, sighing in relief that it doesn't get broken... So...yeah.


	7. Morning

It was early one morning that Lucille woke to the acrid smell of smoke. She jumped out of bed quickly and grabbed her housecoat. She met her Aunt Carlotta in the hall.

"Lucille! I think the cabaret is on fire!" She said in a panic.

They both rushed downstairs, where Lucille was the first to realize that the cabaret wasn't on fire. She covered her mouth to stifle a giggle and held a hand to calm her aunt.

"No, no fire auntie. I think Francoeur is trying to make breakfast, that's all."

Carlotta chuckled, "oh IS he now? How charming." she turned around to head back upstairs. "try to make sure that he doesn't burn the house down while trying to charm you dear."

Lucille peered into the kitchen, seeing the growin mess as a seven foot tall flea tried to cook two things at once. Whatever was on the stove was burning badly. Francoeur seemed to be struggling badly with his endeavor. Lucille couldn't watch any longer. She cleared her throat loudly to catch his attention.

Francoeur flinched, suppressing the urge to jump as he turned around meekly to see Lucille standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. He could t help but blush in embarrassment. "Lucille! What are you doing awake?" he quickly hid 2 of his hands, ones that held spatulas, behind his back.

"That's what I should be asking you. What is this?" she gestured towards the stove. Francoeur looked at the mess.

"Well I asked Raoul what would be a-"

Lucille held her hand up, cutting him off. With a sigh she mumbled "I should have known." She walked over to the window to let out the smoke. Clearing her throat she turned to Francoeur, "Don't you think that before you try to cook for me, that you should learn to cook first?"

Francoeur seemed to be dejected by what Lucille was saying. She waved her hands quickly, realizing what she said came out wrong, "Not that I'm not touched at the gesture! I am!" Lucille tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "How about this: I SHOW you how to cook, that way if you want to surprise me in the future, it will be easier."

Francoeur liked the sound of that. Together they quickly cleaned the pans and stove, Lucille scraping the remains of what used to be eggs and bread into the trash. Together they quickly cleaned the pans and whiped the stove off so they could start fresh.

Lucille took the eggs from the fridge and cracked a few into a bowl. She handed Francoeur a whisk and holding his hand showed him how to beat them for scrambled eggs. Showing how not to splatter the eggs everywhere. In no time the eggs were almost a smooth then showed him how to set the temperature of the stove.

"For cooking eggs, you don't want the flame to be so high, otherwise the eggs will burn too quickly." She poured the eggs on to the pan. She handed Francoeur a spatula and had him push the eggs around the pan.

While The eggs were cooking, Lucille showed Francoeur how to use the toaster. It was a weird contraption next to the stove that intrigued Francoeur. It cooked the bread evenly without burning it.

Soon a proper breakfast was made. Francoeur was pleased at the outcome. Perhaps tomorrow he could make a proper one; he mused as he watched Lucille pour 2 glasses of orange juice to go with the breakfast that the two shared.

* * *

Um yeah. Can't explain this one at all. Random fluff inspired by buying a new whisk and spatula.  
had some trouble with this one at first. But i think it's fixed. My headcanon Francoeur is a herbivore ... So in my head that final scene Francoeur is just drinking juice while watching Lucille. Then they Did the dishes a second time

just a quick FYI going by some reviews, i write when i get the urge to. i try to get one out a week. any faster and i will run out of ideas.


	8. Tears

Sorry it's been a while. Last week my muse had me write a songfic style for Monster in Paris. Cant really post it here yet because i have a sneaking suspician that someone will report it and it will get deleted after getting 10 likes/reviews. That's what happened to the last songfic i posted. Ill post it eventually tho, once i get the second part written.

* * *

It started like any day. Francoeur sat in the stage area strumming his guitar, making sure it was in tune. He heard a thud at the front door and went to see who it was. It was Raoul with a large and apparently heavy box of champagne. Francoeur helped him out, taking the box with ease.

"Thanks big man." Raoul said following behind. He raised an eyebrow noting that Francoeur was wearing an odd wig that spiked straight upwards. He shook head. He pulled out a small notebook and marked off his current delivery as complete. Tucking the book away he looked around, "So, where's Lucille?" he asked nonchalantly.

Placing the box of champagne on a table near the kitchen for the servers to take care of, Francoeur answered. "I do not know. I have not seen her all day. And Madame Carlotta left early this morning also." Francoeur seemed confused at such behavior.

Raoul scratched his beard and pulled out his watch. After checking the time he put it away, only to pull it back out quickly. "Shit, is that the date?" He slapped his hand to his forehead and slumped into a nearby chair, hand shielding his eyes.

Francoeur, concerned over his friend's sudden change in behavior, gave an inquisitive chirp. Raoul looked up, a sad look on his face, answering three short words: "It's Lucille's birthday."

Francoeur had climbed the stairs to the cabaret's attic. Raoul had deliveries to go to, after explaining what a 'birthday' was, and why for Lucille it was a bad thing.

"It's the same date she lost her parents. They were in a car accident trying to get to her house twenty years ago. There was a snow storm. I'll never forget that night; she was so heart broken. She's hated celebrating her birthday ever since."

Raoul had suggested that Lucille was most likely in the attic where her parents belongings were kept. Francoeur had removed his shoes so his footsteps were quieter; so as to not disturb Lucille when approaching her. He found her in a corner with a photo album; tears were running down her cheeks. Francoeur was unsure how to approach her, suddenly reminded of a different time when Lucille was sad. When he was thought to be dead, but in fact just shrunk back to a tiny flea. Lucille had wept for him then and there was no way he could comfort her; tell her he was not dead. He did not like seeing Lucille distraught.

He quietly walked over and sat down next to her, curling his legs against his torso. Lucille jumped when she noticed his presence, but remained quiet. The only sound in the attic was the sound of Francoeur's soft breathing. Lucille suddenly felt thankful for the people she had in her life, instead of sorrowful for the people that weren't. She leaned her head against Francoeur's arms, and looked up at his face, giving him a sad smile.

"Thank you for being here Francoeur." secretly wishing to herself 'please don't ever leave me again.' Francoeur returned the smile, resting one of his hands on hers. They spent the rest of the afternoon in the attic, Lucille eventually telling Francoeur about her parents. Francoeur happy that Lucille longer seemed depressed.

* * *

I think i was partially inspired by a fan comic i read, so i will link it:

cherubim101. deviantart art/You-say-it-best-2-257804801


	9. Fracture

Sorry took so long to write a new one... The fandom is slowly slipping away and I'm trying to fight to keep it alive! I've still got a handful of ideas to write, don't wanna lose them or anything. I'll still try to post one every week, or within 2. At least until a new fandom sparks my interest. It's just my muse for AMIP isn't as eager as she used to be about my ideas sorry. The other ideas I've brain stormed ARE partially written... But I get distracted, my daughter a migraine a horrible song on the radio. Hopefully I can get those drabbles written ! So just be a little patient for them.

* * *

It was an exceptionally cold day, mid February. Lucille had gone out for some errands with her aunt. Francoeur had stayed behind to watch over things at the cabaret as the cold made him sluggish and there was no winter coat that would fit him. Francoeur was playing the piano, which had been moved to the stage area for better sound, and for use in performance, when suddenly the front door had burst open. Francoeur hopped off the stage to investigate, slipping on his mask and hat in case there were strangers.

It was just Lucille and her aunt, back early from their errands. Lucille was walking strangely, leaning heavily on her aunt. Something that seemed very awkward considering that Lucille was half a foot taller than Carlotta.

"Are you alright Lucille?" Francoeur asked with a worried tone.

Lucille gave a grimaced smile. "I'm fine, I just slipped on some ice is -"

"You're NOT 'alright'" Carlotta interrupted with a no-nonsense tone of voice. "Let's get you off that ankle first; then we will decide how 'alright' you are."

Francoeur helped take Lucille to one of the tables in the dining room. Carlotta plopped two chairs right ways up, indicating that Francoeur guide Lucille to them, and eased her injured left ankle to be propped up up on the other.

The ankle looked strange to Francoeur. He crouched to get a better view. It was a purple color instead of faint pink and looked...BIGGER. Carlotta took the foot in her hands and turned it slightly gauging Lucille's reactions.

"I think it's just a sprain. Let me go get the first aid kit." Carlotta headed off in the direction of the kitchen. Francoeur looked up at Lucille, who had her elbow on the table propping her head. She looked to be in pain.

"Are you ok, Lucille?" he asked softly. Lucille met his eyes; so full of concern. She gave him a more genuine smile. "Yes. I think my pride is injured as well for not noticing the ice."

Francoeur did not know what 'pride' was, and before he could ask, Carlotta returned with a small roll of brown fabric. He watched as she took Lucille's foot and wrapped it with the fabric, pinning it in place at the end of the roll.

"There, now we need to get you upstairs to your room." Carlotta reached out to help Lucille up, but Francoeur was quicker. He scooped Lucille into his arms easily. Startled Lucille gripped his shirt. He carried her up the narrow stairs easily, mindful of his precious cargo. It was only slightly awkward given his size, but Lucille somehow never touched the walls. Francoeur gently laid Lucille on her bed.

"Thank you Francoeur. You are very thoughtful." Francoeur smiled in return as Carlotta brought in extra pillows to prop the injured foot up.

"Now you need to stay off that foot as much as possible." Carlotta stated, sighing. "I guess the cabaret will have to close for the rest of the week." She started to leave the room.

"Why not have Francoeur perform?"

"What?" Carlotta was not sure she heard her niece. Francoeur was equally confused. How could he perform without his angel?

"I'm sure Francoeur can perform fine by himself, you've been writing that piano piece the past week haven't you?"

Francoeur gripped his hands together nervously and nodded. He has, but was unsure of performing his music for anyone other than Lucille.

"So why not perform it then. I've heard your music before, I'm sure it's very lovely. Please perform?" Francoeur thought a moment then nodded.

The following evening was his debut. In the audience front and center his friends sat at a table, Lucille with her leg propped on a spare chair. Lucille waved at frequent patrons who wished her well. Francoeur took a deep breath as Carlotta gave introduction. When he saw his friends encouraging smiles and waves, his eyes lingered on Lucille's. He hoped she would enjoy his song. He DID write it just for her. Perhaps... THIS was what 'pride' truly meant.

* * *

Random idea I got after tripping over something of my daughters and skinning my own ankle, lol. The rest... I don't know... Something prevented me from writing part of it out, then.. Bam there the rest was!


	10. Gifts

Sorry for the delay. Been busy with dental work and extreme heat.

* * *

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Francoeur was at the shopping center with Emile. The cabaret was closed for the day to fix loose boards on the stage. The theater, similarly was having some of the more worn chairs replaced.

Emile wanted to do some shopping for a gift for Maude's upcoming birthday, and didn't mind taking Francoeur off of Lucille's hair. Besides, Emile felt safer with Francoeur nearby, considering the last time he bought something of great value he got mugged and almost lost it.

Francoeur always enjoyed hanging with his friends, and didn't get out of the cabaret very often. Many of the patrons greeted him pleasantly, recognizing him from the posters, and the shows. He smiled and waved back at all that he could, not wanting to ignore a single person.

The two entered a jewelry shop. Francoeur was amazed at all the shiny baubles. Emile went off looking at the various pendants, trying to decide which would suit his girlfriend best.

Francoeur was investigating he large variety of different earrings. Perhaps he should get something for Lucille as well? Her birthday had not only passed months ago, but it also was not a happy day. It was decided. It may not be Lucille's birthday, but ahe still should get a gift.

Francoeur's eyes landed on a pair of pale green droplet earrings on display. They were a similar shade to Lucille's eyes! They were also much different than many of the other earrings Lucille had. All of here's were kinds that attached directly to her ears. These however, appeared as if they would hang OFF of them.

The shopkeeper indicated the price of the set, and Francoeur pulled out some of his own earnings from the cabaret; unsure still of the value of these small bits of paper. Luckily Emile had come over with his choice, and told Francoeur which papers would pay for the earings. The shop keeper wrapped both gifts for the gentlemen and they bid him adeu. They made their way back to the Rare Bird, where they would meet their respected lady friends and give their gifts.

* * *

I don't think I originally meant this to be dialogueless... It just ended up that way. hopefully ill start posting more if my muse cooperates/

I had a pic of the earings I picked out but my computer died taking the bookmark. In my head they are mAde of a jade kind of raindrop shape. So definatly perfect of how Francoeur feels!

Emile's gift I never gave a thought what he'd be getting, so use your imagination lol.


End file.
